


To Be a Knight

by SpiderSensei



Series: King's Quest: Achaka Lives [1]
Category: King's Quest (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Could be platonic, M/M, Probably Not Platonic, bi character is bi, bi protag, bi protag is bi, so is fic 2: to be a king, the feels train is still coming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7153748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiderSensei/pseuds/SpiderSensei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when the past is altered? Some things stay the same, while others are completely different. Some things are inevitable, like a script written in stone; some things change with the death of a mere fly. What happens when the inevitable...never happens? May contain spoilers for chapters 1, 2, and 3.</p><p>My take on the new King's Quest if Achaka had survived the dragon's den, because hey, maybe that happened for a reason. S/O to ocean-soda on Tumblr for cheering me on about this, Lord knows I needed it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Birthday Party, a New Friend, and an Old Ally

_Water dripped from the ceiling, droplets free-falling until they plipped on the ground far below, forming jagged rocks and lonely little lakes that reflected the sparse amount of light that happened to shine into the cavernous underground canyon. The sound echoed throughout the caves, lonely and piercing in the tense silence. The absence of the dragon was brief, but welcome, as Achaka held Graham desperately close to his chest, eyeing the makeshift bandage that was once his cape, now drenched with the blood of his ally and tied securely around the boy’s torso._

_"Gramee…” Achaka’s deep voice cracked as he watched Graham stare anxiously at the ceiling, his eyes darting frantically and aimlessly, his expression set with a pained frown as the color fled his once rosy cheeks._

_"Hh…” the teenager breathed, his lip trembling slightly. “I…I-I…” His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, and everything in his body ached faintly, distantly. His chest felt abnormally cold and wet, and his legs were so numb, they might as well have not been there at all._

_Achaka lifted Graham carefully, his body tense as he sprinted through the caves. He kept his upper body even, concentrating on preventing Graham’s body from feeling any more shock from sudden or strenuous movements. Graham groaned quietly, hot tears spilling from his eyes as the dark knight carried him with a superhuman strength and swiftness. The cavern walls closed in around him, the darkness surrounding them, eating up everything, until even Achaka’s helmet disappeared and the metallic sound of his footsteps were lost in the youth’s dreams…_

 

“Happy birthday, Acorn!” Graham cried, releasing Acorn’s arm and jumping to the side.

Acorn lowered his hands, blinking his eyes open, and gasped loudly, bringing his palms to his cheeks in a shock. “Oh..! What’s all this..?” he asked, looking around with wide eyes.

The small forest clearing was decorated with colorful paper streamers hanging from the low branches of the trees surrounding the open area. A large banner had been strung up above from one branch to another that read in big, blocky letters: “HAPPY BIRTHDAY ACORN” with little drawings of colorful socks, squirrels, and acorns decorating the rim. A large, circular wooden table with several wood chairs was set out, topped with plates, forks, and a large, multicolored cake with three tiers and a little squirrel figurine on top. Various gifts piled on the edge of the table, each one wrapped in colorful paper or otherwise simply topped with a bow. Graham, as well as all the other knights-in-training and some townsfolk, beamed at him, and the teen held a rather messily-wrapped package with a big blue bow on top. At Acorn’s expression, his smile grew. He knew a surprise party would be a good idea.

“Iiiiit’s a surprise party!” he cheered, standing up a little straighter and holding out the present. “I know you said you wanted a parade through the town, but don’t worry, the festival of flowers is today, and I’ve arranged for a small knights’ escort in your honor.”

A dash of silver appeared next to Graham, striking a pose. “Whisper helped! Whisper contributed to a successful surprise birthday party!” the monument of a man proclaimed with great pride, gesticulating excitedly.

Graham smiled warmly. “We all helped. Everyone pitched in to make this party for you, Acorn. I, uh, hope you…” He trailed off when he noticed Acorn rubbing his face and sniffling. “Acorn, are you…crying?”

Another sniff, and then Acorn responded harshly, “No! I-I just got something in my eye, that’s all! I’m not getting all emotional over some silly birthday party!” His large paws wiped his eyes before he pouted, crossing his arms.

“Oh? Then, in that case,” Graham started with a sly smile. “I suppose you won’t be wanting your present?”

That definitely turned a switch. “Hey, now, there’s no need to be cruel,” Acorn grumbled, swiping the wrapped gift from Graham’s hands and carefully opening it. A few moments later, he was holding up a large spool of shimmering silk, so gold that it seemed to soak up the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees above, shining brighter than a diamond. The spool itself was so big, Acorn couldn’t touch his finger and thumb together around the silk. The craftsman let out a long, breathless sigh, admiring the material.

“That’s from me and Achaka,” Graham mentioned, glancing over his shoulder at the other knight-in-training. “We had to do a little digging, but the quality of that material is said to be so fine, you could sew a butterfly a new pair of wings.” He certainly wasn’t going to mention everything they did to acquire the material, especially not the searches for the golden goose nest, the hike through the spiniferous thornweed garden, and the strenuous “borrowing” of several spinning wheels. For some, it might have been a little over-the-top for a casual friend’s birthday present, but for the adventuring duo, it was a welcome thrill on a boring Thursday afternoon.

“Oh, Graham, I, I don’t know what to say,” Acorn said, unaware of the emotion in his voice as he carefully examined the material. “I got so many ideas for this already! You guys really went all this way for me? I…” He sniffed, returning the material into the box before he set it on the table and suddenly wrapped his arms around Graham in a bear hug; Whisper swiftly avoided the embrace, striking a victory pose a few feet away.

“Thanks, Lil’ Buddy! You really know how to make a guy’s day!” Acorn laughed with a big grin.

Graham’s feet kicked at nothing as he felt the air being squeezed from his lungs with a long _hufffff_. He smiled shakily, wheezing, “Glad you l-like it, B-Bud..!” When he was finally released, he stumbled on his feet a bit, bumping into something behind him. He turned to see Achaka standing tall above him, his helmet tilted downward. Graham couldn’t help but smile at his visor. After all the struggle they had gone through to make amends with the others, he was glad they could finally enjoy each other’s company like this, without worry for the next duel or who would be knighted. After Graham had won the Duel of Wits, he’d been granted an audience with the king, during which he’d put in a good word for Achaka, Whisper, and even-

“Hey, who’s this from?” Acorn asked, lifting a small gift wrapped neatly in white paper and tied with a green ribbon.

“That would be mine,” interjected a nasally voice, a small figure approaching from the sidelines.

               

_"I can’t lose to you!” Manny cried. “How about another challenge? We only got to square off in a duel of wits!” He began to rise from his seat, reaching behind himself with a sinister pose to draw a weapon. “A true gentleman would win in a duel of strength as well!”_

_The mace was centimeters away from Graham’s face; he leaned quickly away in his seat, startled at the sudden change in his former secret ally._

_"Graham!” Wente cried from the crowd. The onlookers gasped as Manny raised his mace, ready to strike-_

_SHINK!_

_The mace was knocked out of Manny’s hand, and it clattered onto the stage several feet away. Manny and Graham watched it roll to a halt before looking to the source of the arrow. Achaka lowered his bow before raising a hand to his helmet and shouting something to Graham. “Gramee! Oochelee shrekee! Oseke stalama!”_

_Graham still couldn’t understand a great deal of Achaka’s language, but he could tell that Achaka was probably warning him, prompting him into action. He rose from his seat, looking to Manny with a serious expression. Before he could even speak, Manny had hopped off of his chair, backing away from Graham with palms raised._

_"Now, now, Graham, don’t be so hasty- Remember, we were in an alliance together! Remember when I helped you? Remember when I helped Achaka?” He lowered himself as Graham approached with a determined stride, one hand disappearing behind his back. Graham tossed a coin towards Wente and, in turn, caught the pie that was thrown back to him. He reeled it back in his hand as his eyes locked on Manny._

_The small contestant lifted his arms suddenly, defensively. “You really want to fight the guy who stood by you when everyone else thought you would fail? Is that what I get for helping you make it this far?”_

_Graham visibly tensed, hesitating. He bit his lip, taking a deep breath in before exhaling. Manny turned on Graham the moment things didn’t go his way, and he even set up the Duel of Wits with a trick in his favor. Graham’s head was urging him not to trust Manny, to be done with him, but something felt off. Something told him there was more to this story than an overly-ambitious man._

_“Manny, stop it. I don’t want to fight you.”_

_A moment of silence passed, then Manny let out an incredulous scoff. “What, are you too chicken? Afraid you’ll get beaten in a square fight?” he mocked, lifting his fists in a more aggressive manner._

_Graham heard the clank and clink of armor climbing the stage behind him, but he raised a hand towards the sound. “No, don’t. Let me handle this,” he commanded with a great amount of resolve and strained calmness._

_Achaka hesitated, but, after a moment, he grunted, keeping his distance._

_“Manny,” Graham started, lowering himself into a kneeling position, pie in hand. “We don’t have to fight. I know that you’ve been making tricks and plots to make it this far, but still, you helped me make it here. Why? What is it that you want? Why do you want to become a knight so badly? What’s making you do all of this?”_

_“You think I’m going to waste my time telling you? Someone like you wouldn’t understand, Graham. No one will understand,” Manny spat, taking another step back, secretly eyeing the dark knight behind the scrawny teenager._

_"You’ll never really know that until you try,” Graham stated, holding out the pie. “I know you may not want forgiveness, and I’m not entirely certain you deserve it, but…you were the first friend I made when I came to Daventry. You gave me the encouragement I needed to keep going in the competition when I almost gave up. I know I probably wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t been helping me along the way. That means something to me. Does it mean anything to you?”_

_Manny’s head tilted down, then back up, then down, then up, looking between the pie and the boy in quick succession. A long silence passed before, slowly, Manny began to lower his fists, muttering, “I suppose…you have a point. You win, Graham.”_

“A book?” Acorn questioned suspiciously, unwrapping Manny’s present. He lifted it up and read the title aloud. “ _Seventy-one Ways to Turn Art into Home Security_! Hey, I could use this when I get my own shop!”

Manny crossed his arms, shrugging his shoulders. “I figured you could make _some_ use of all that yarn,” the dwarf muttered inside his helmet. Thankfully, Acorn didn’t scoop him into a bear hug like he had with Graham.

“Don’t make me pound you, little man,” Acorn replied with a bit of sarcasm before opening the next present. Whisper had gotten him a picture of himself, framed and autographed; Amaya gave the giant a small, dull blade that she called a “letter opener”, which Graham had seen her attempting to sharpen several days before; the Hobblepots, lastly, gave him a small collection of color-changing dyes, to help with his creative projects, although Graham was pretty sure that he had heard Chester talking about throwing them away the last time he had been in their shop. Acorn seemed to appreciate every single gift, despite his passive remarks and hard-shelled mannerisms. He held each present with care and meticulously organized them on the table next to the tiered cake. Even Princess Madeline of Avalon gifted her friend with a song, accompanied by several members of her court. After the presents were opened, everyone got a slice of Wente’s cake and, naturally, enjoyed it thoroughly; well, everyone except for Manny, who spent more time poking the cake than eating it. Graham took it in grace, as his presence was a sign that Manny was at least trying to participate. He could very well have disappeared at any point until now, but instead, here he was, for better or worse.

               

The party wound down eventually; Whisper had to return to his “special training mission”, Acorn wanted to organize all his new gifts, and the townspeople had to get back to their shops before the festival started up. The streets would be full of tourists and shoppers soon enough. Manny left without a word, but Graham called out to him, “Bye, Manny! Thanks for coming!” All he got was a small wave and a mumble, but at least it was something.

“Manna grecka opalla, Gramee?”

A deep voice directly behind him startled Graham; he jumped slightly. “Ah-!” He turned to see his best friend, Achaka, tilt his helmeted head curiously at him. Oddly enough, he, Whisper, and Manny had all worn their armor to the party, only the former two removing their helmets to eat the cake. He supposed it was a macho thing. “Achaka, hey. What was that? Manny? Oh, he’s fine now. Or at least, I think he is. I’m not really sure. I’m hoping for the best, though!” Graham gave Achaka a smile as he puffed out his chest a bit, showing his confidence. Achaka hummed doubtfully, crossing his arms.

Graham sighed a little, deciding to change the subject. “Hey, do you think you could help me take down these streamers? I don’t want to force the woodland creatures to clean it up.”

“Achaka,” the dark knight answered, saluting Graham with his unique gesture. Graham nodded.

“Right, okay. I’ll work on the streamers, and you get the banner.” He pointed towards the sign, and Achaka followed his finger to see what he was instructing him to do. He nodded before proceeding towards the tree.

Despite the language barrier, it was a bit surprising how easily Graham and Achaka could get by using just gestures and facial expressions; or at least, Graham did, most of the time. Achaka just watched and listened carefully, either agreeing with Graham’s ideas or shooting them down. In the past few months since Graham’s victory in the knighthood trials, he’d been so busy with running errands for the king and learning the protocol standard for being a knight that he was glad he had someone to share the burden with. Whisper, Manny, and Achaka had each been recognized for knighthood positions, thanks to Graham’s convincing words in the presence of King Edward, and were currently in training to officially take the titles. It gave him time to get to know the others a bit more, and the missions that the king sent him on weren’t always a one-man job. Whisper was fast on his feet and happy to run from danger, so that usually made him a good distraction or scout. Manny spent more of his time reading than anything else, and Acorn was too invested in his crafts to bother with adventure anymore. Achaka was ready and willing to come to Graham’s aid when he needed, for there were some puzzles that couldn’t be solved by one mind alone. The adventures that they’d been on in recent weeks seemed to be more and more thrilling as the danger gradually escalated and Achaka and Graham became more accustomed with each other’s habits and communication tactics. Graham was pretty sure that they could probably take the national championship title for charades.

Laying the streamers over his shoulders and down his chest, Graham concentrated on strategically pulling down one streamer at a time in such a way that one would follow another with each tug, saving him time climbing trees and untangling ribbons. He glanced Achaka’s way, seeing that he was just about done taking down the banner, sitting on a high branch among the leaves. He looked so natural there, as if he was sitting on a bench, but when he leaned back suddenly, Graham tensed. He watched as his friend fell back, his knees hooked around the branch before he kicked forward, falling, and landed on his feet in a crouch, banner in hand. Graham blinked twice, wondering how in the world he managed to do that, and wondering if he could pull off something like that, too.

When Achaka’s helmet turned towards Graham, he looked away quickly, focusing on the streamers again. As much as he admired Achaka, he didn’t want to seem like some pining wannabe. As amazing as Achaka was, and as much as Graham counted on him to be at his side in the face of danger, he didn’t want to turn into his sidekick or pupil or damsel in distress. He wanted to be his equal. To do that, he had to learn some things on his own.

He heard footsteps come his way, Achaka coming to check on him. “I’m almost done, here. Wente took all the dishes, right? This should be the last of it…”

“Otele michka?” Achaka’s gloved hand appeared in Graham’s field of vision, palm up and open. Another glance at the knight and Graham figured he was offering to carry something.

“Oh, nah, I-” His voice cut off when Achaka instead touched Graham’s cheek, tilting his head to face the knight head-on. Although Graham couldn’t see Achaka’s face through the visor, he could feel his gaze boring down on him. He smiled a little, chuckling. “Uh..?”

Achaka’s thumb brushed over Graham’s cheek, and the teenager stopped talking. It was only when he saw the small cloud of pink on the gloved thumb that he understood. “Frosting. There...on my face. Right, I…Thanks, for that,” he stammered awkwardly.

“Gramee pushka,” Achaka replied, looking at the frosting himself and removing his hand from Graham’s face. Graham turned away, trying to focus on his work. Achaka could be a little strange sometimes.

It wasn’t long before all of the party supplies were cleaned up, and Graham even found some spare rope under the table. After tucking everything into his cape, he took a breath. “Alright! Looks like we’re all done here. What do you say we head back to the castle?” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. His friend turned to him, nodding silently, and they were on their way.

The trip went relatively quickly as Graham led the way through the woods, heading towards the castle. Achaka walked silently beside him, and Graham could only assume he was enjoying the view just as much as he. The sun was beginning to fall towards the horizon, casting a soft yellow glow over the coloring leaves and sending shadows stretching across the foliage. Autumn was setting in, and a chill swept through the trees and rustled the dry leaves, blowing several from their perches up high and onto the forest floor. Graham hugged his arms against the breeze, glancing at his armored friend. He wondered if the armor’s material kept him warm, or if the insulation forced him to be warm using his own body heat? He really didn’t know much about Achaka, where he was from, or where he got his armor. Was his armor enchanted? Did it have good ventilation?

“Gramee, wata.”

Was it forged in the heart of a volcano? Was the inside coated with the fuzz of a thousand sheep? Did it harness the power of the sun? Was it made of dragon’s breath?

Graham bumped right smack into a tree, and that’s when he realized he’d been staring at Achaka’s armor for several paces. Achaka touched his shoulder, steadying him.  

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Graham reassured, turning away quickly and avoiding looking at him as his cheeks heated up. Zards, he’d done it again.

“…Hmm.” Achaka watched him continue onward towards the ravine. The teen cupped the horn’s mouthpiece in his hands, took a deep breath, and blew hard into it. The instrument’s sound echoed over the land and off the walls of the cliffs, but after several moments of waiting, Graham tapped his foot impatiently and folded his arms with a sigh.

“Looks like Pillare called in sick again… Geez, and I really thought she’d approve of addendum 346.7 and a half.”

“Chooka neetee.”               

“You’re right. Two adventurers like us can solve this, no problem. Just need some…” Graham searched his cape for anything that could be used to get across. Streamers, an acorn, a cool stick, an extra slice of cake, a couple gold coins… “Aha!” Graham pulled out the rope, holding it up. “Here we are. Achaka, would you like to do the honors? I, uh, forgot to bring my bow,” he admitted sheepishly.

Achaka took the rope from Graham, fastening it to one of his arrows. “Gramee chookee, atakra shrekee.”

Graham rubbed the back of his neck, laughing nervously. “I know, I know, I need to be better prepared, even when I’m going to a friend’s birthday party. You never know what could happen, right? Remember the time with the magic bean?”

“Groka? Affa nata…” Achaka replied hesitantly, readying his bow.

“Yeaaah, wouldn’t want to go through that again.”

Achaka fired the arrow across the ravine, the rope flying behind it. It dug deep into a tree next to the road, and Achaka tied his end of the cord to a branch, making sure it was fastened tightly. He hopped, grabbing onto the taut rope, and began to make his way across. Shortly after, Graham did the same, hopping up and beginning the long trek across the cliff.

When they reached the other side, Achaka left the arrow and the rope, heading for the castle doors. Graham followed him, admiring the view of the castle yet again. Although it probably wasn’t anything special, Graham had quickly come to call Daventry his home. Everyone was friendly, there was a warm bed and food on the table every night, and the king seemed to really appreciate everything the knights were doing. While Graham slept in a large room with rows of cots with the other knights, it made the place feel even more like home. There was always someone to talk to, and it was never quiet, what with Whisper telling stories and the other knights loudly reviewing addendums and criticizing each other’s armor-polishing skills. He never really felt alone when he was here; although, sometimes, that wasn’t always a good thing. Every now and then, he had to get away from all the hubbub and noise of the castle, which made him thankful that Daventry was surrounded by thick woods and plenty of gorgeous scenic views.

What made it even better was that Achaka had a place in the castle, too, and he seemed to relate to his desire for the occasional private moment, as well. Although he wasn’t an official knight yet, he’d gratefully accepted the king’s offer to sleep in the knights’ quarters. Whisper had taken up the offer, too, although he usually only spent time in there when he was telling stories of his adventures and sleeping just a few hours a day. Manny had accepted, as well, but Graham had yet to actually see him sleep there.

As Graham and Achaka passed through the castle gates, they could already hear the sound of bards and musicians practicing, the merchants advertising flower crowns and bouquets, and couples enjoying the growing vibe of the festivities. Flower petals were strewn over the cobblestone streets, and a crowd was beginning to form on the outsides of the main road, preparing for the traditional march of the knights.

A merchant caught Graham’s attention, holding out a flower crown made of small, delicate white wildflowers. “Hey, hey, boy! You look like you have a good face for flowers! How would you like to sport this crown and attract the ladies, you know what I’m sayin’? I think it really catches the exciting glint in your eye, what do you say?” The merchant grinned at him, wearing a flower crown, himself, one made of purple-hued bluebells, gently bobbing and tapping his forehead as he talked and nodded energetically.

“Oh, um, thanks, but no tha-” He noticed Achaka’s hand taking up the crown from the merchant’s grasp and watched as he lifted the flowers over Graham’s head and promptly placed the circlet over his hat. After a pause, he lifted the crown again, removed the hat, and rested the circle of wildflowers over Graham’s hair. He lowered his hands to his sides, observing his work as Graham blinked. But honestly, he couldn’t resist. He struck a small pose and asked with a smile, “Do I look good?”

“…Achaka.”

“Aaaaah, it seems your friend likes it, too! I got a limited offer, buy one get one for the cost of two, and only today! What do you say?” the merchant prompted, smiling cleverly.

“Um…” Graham started, but it didn’t seem like his answer was necessary. Achaka produced two small bronze coins and placed them on the merchant’s table; he then continued down the road, carrying Graham’s hat. Graham hurried after him, the merchant happily collecting the coins. A bit of awkward silence followed, and Graham noticed that Achaka was still carrying his cap. He thought about asking for it, but he didn’t really feel the need.

A small fanfare sounded, signaling the start of the parade. First came a row of four knights, marching in unison to the rhythm of the music, each carrying a banner high above their heads with the crest and colors of the kingdom. The crowd clapped and cheered, watching from the sidelines as a float of pink flowers approached afterward, topped with a wooden carving of King Edward himself, pink blossoms attached to his hair and robe with delicate precision. Several floats followed after, each one adorned with various blossoms, buds, and greens and themed after some important aspect of Daventry and its history. There was even one float themed after the knights of the kingdom; two knights stood on the float, with strings of flowers draped over their shoulders and little blossoms tucked into the nooks and crannies of their armor. Near the middle of the small parade, Acorn came along after another row of knights, surrounded by Princess Madeline’s court, as the princess herself sat on Acorn’s shoulder. The giant waved to the crowd, making sure that everyone could see the princess, and he looked beyond proud to be escorting his good friend through the festival.

Suddenly, a crash came from down the road, at the origin of the parade. Graham tensed, then almost immediately hurried after the sound. Achaka followed closely, and they turned a corner to see a float tilting precariously to one side, a flower figurine of a famous Daventry figure almost toppling over without the help of several knights.

Graham hurried forward, asking, “What’s going on?”

Knight Number 4 looked to him from his position in holding up the float while two others tried to lift the float to an even level. “Ah, Graham, we were just rolling the float forward, but the front wheel snapped! Looked rotted, it did. That’s what happens when you cut back on parade funds and can’t purchase new floats!”

“It’s okay, we’ll figure this out,” Graham reassured him.

“Oh, thank you, Graham, but you better hurry! This float is going next!” Knight #4, otherwise known as Gary, urged quietly.

Graham nodded, looking around for a substitute for the wheel. Perhaps the lid to a barrel? No, no barrels nearby. Maybe a stale loaf of bread? No, that wouldn’t work, either- the bakeries were blocked by the crowd down the street. What else could he use?

Achaka kneeled down next to the axle sticking out from under the float’s cover, examining it for a moment before he gripped it and lifted it, startling the other knights as the figure on the float wobbled to a standstill. “Achaka osema.”

Graham snapped his fingers. “That’s it! Everyone else, take an axle end! We’ll carry it!” The flat board must have been light enough; the only element on the float was a wire figure covered in flowers and a blanket.

“Great idea, Pockets! Climb on top and steady it, and we’ll carry it down the street,” Gary suggested.

“Me?” Graham blinked.

“Of course! It won’t be steady enough with four marching- albeit impeccably so- knights carrying it. We need you to smile and wave at the crowd as you keep Sir Cuttingham and his butcher knife of glory steady!” Gary exclaimed, picking up a wheel as the other two knights did the same. “Now hurry!”

With the parade continuing without them, Graham didn’t have time to argue. He climbed up onto the float and stood behind the legendary knight, holding him steady with one hand on his back, and the other on his bulky, soft, fluffy pink arm. He glanced down at Achaka as they began marching forward, spreading his feet to keep better balance as they turned the corner and started down the street.

The crowd’s cheers picked up when they saw the newest addition to the parade, and for a moment Graham considered hiding behind the flowery figure. He smiled and nodded every now and then, and although he knew that the cheers weren’t for him, he felt like he was towering over the entire street. He couldn’t help but feel a little flutter in his chest. He glanced down at Achaka.

‘ _He looks so calm_ ,’ Graham thought. ‘ _I can’t see his face, but he always looks like he knows exactly what he’s doing._ ’

“Hey, Graham!” Amaya called out, waving to him. Graham was started out of his thoughts; he grinned and waved back, seeing some familiar faces in the crowd. The Hobblepots called out and waved, too, hooting at the young knight as he passed by. Wente and his new wife, Bramble, cheered and waved excitedly, grinning from ear to ear as Graham waved back. The boy couldn’t help but beam and blush at the attention, and despite his awkward position behind Sir Cuttingham, he felt giddy with the spirit of the festival.

They reached the end of the parade a few fanfares later, and the knights and Achaka lowered the float. Graham hopped off, watching the knights congratulate each other before he turned to his friend.

“That was a great idea there, Achaka. Nice work,” he complimented, nodding.

“Gramee…ichiha,” Achaka replied.

“Ichiha? That’s a new one, I think.”

Achaka reached towards Graham, adjusting the flower crown perched on his head just slightly before offering him his cap. Graham looked at it as if it was a purple pumpkin.

“Oh, thanks,” Graham said, accepting the cap. After a moment of thought, he decided to tuck away the flower crown. Maybe he could preserve it somehow?

After returning his cap to his head, he and Achaka made their way back through the festival streets. At this point, paper and cloth lanterns were being brought out, lit, and strung up, with elaborate, simple, colorful, or monochrome floral patterns adorning the thin casing of the small lights. The sun was beginning to set over the horizon, and the prime time for lantern-flying was approaching. The duo picked up a pair of simple paper lanterns and joined the rest of the crowd, waiting for the traditional ten-second countdown.

“It sure has been a year of big changes,” Graham sighed wistfully. He remembered when he’d first begun his journey to Daventry, that having been just a few months ago; at this point, it felt like it was years behind him.

“Oheche?” Achaka asked, and Graham looked at him.

“Yeah. A lot of things have changed. I’m finally a knight in Daventry, to boot,” Graham added, smiling. It began to wane, though, as he continued, “But I still don’t feel like I really deserve it…”

Achaka tilted his head at Graham, curious. He couldn’t tell exactly what his friend was saying, but there was something regretful about his tone, something remorseful in his eyes.

The countdown began, and everyone lifted up their lanterns, ready to let them go. “Ten!”

Achaka leaned forward a little, catching Graham’s attention.

“Nine!”

Graham looked up at Achaka, then he shook his head, smiling a little.

“Eight!”

He looked up at the lantern flame, visible from underneath as it sat on the wire innards.

“Seven!”

He sighed quietly. After so many weeks, it was bothering him now more than ever. He’d been wanting to talk to Achaka about it for some time.

“Six!”

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he would bring it up.

“Five!”

Maybe. But maybe he was just imagining things. Maybe it was the stress.

“Four!”

He looked to Achaka. The dark knight hadn’t looked away from him. His armor shined and shimmered with the surrounding candlelight.

“Three!”

They stared silently at each other.

“Two!”

Graham bit his lip, then smiled.

“One!”

Achaka didn’t look away as he released his lantern, followed by everyone else on Daventry’s streets. Graham did the same, after a beat.

The lanterns rose up slowly, delicately, as the crowd cheered. The lights of the candles seemed to blend with the sunset in the distant background, the last rays of sunshine sweeping over the rooftops and illuminating the patterns of the paper lanterns even more as each one rose up, higher, higher. Everyone craned their necks to watch the lanterns rise, save for two knights caught in a silent conversation.

The boy gestured for Achaka to follow, as the festival was practically over by now. He managed to give him a convincing smile as they made their way towards the castle.

“Gramee.”

“Hey, when is your birthday?” he asked. He figured it was a safer topic than the one that was bugging him consistently every day for the past few weeks. “You know, how old you are? I’m nineteen.”

“Ohaka?” Achaka held up three fingers, then two fingers.

“Thirty-two? Is that how old you are, or how many days until your birthday?” When Achaka saw the confused look on Graham’s face, he began to clarify.

“Achaka,” the dark knight started, holding up two fingers, then five. “Ohaka,” he stated, holding up three, then two.

“Ohhh, so you’re twenty-five, and your birthday is in thirty-two days?”

“Affa nata.” Numbers were a bit easier for Achaka to understand in Graham’s language.

“I see…” he smiled. Would Achaka appreciate a surprise party, too?

They made their way across the courtyard to enter the castle via the “knight” entrance. Down a few halls and past the kitchens they finally reached the barracks, where some of the knights were already beginning to change out of their armor. Kyle and Larry were in the corner, doing their usual routine, but without the uniforms. “Hello, Graham. How was the party?” Larry asked.

“It was great, thanks. Acorn really liked his gifts, and I think the streamers were a nice touch. Nice call with that, Kyle,” Graham said, smiling from one knight to the other.

“Of course, Graham, any time! I’m glad it went smoothly.” Kyle grinned.

“And, as a token of my appreciation, I brought you guys a slice of cake!” Graham pulled the plate of cake from his cape, offering it to them.

“Oh, thank you Graham, really,” Larry started, licking his lips. “Think you could set it over there? Kyle’s got a few more rounds left until break.”

“Sure thing.” Graham nodded, doing so. He noticed Achaka heading for their usual sleeping area, setting down his bow and quiver beside a cot. He headed after him, noticing, as he passed, all the guards that were cleaning their armor, performing evening exercises, or reviewing memos and addendums with the greatest amount of dedication. He couldn’t help but feel like he was somehow falling behind, even though it was hardly his fault that his uniform hadn’t arrived yet, and he was doing his best with the addendums, but being surrounded by muscular men every day could really send a clear, silent message. When he reached the area where he and Achaka usually slept, he got down on the floor and started doing a pushup.

“Oooooone! Two, three, f-four…” Graham huffed, pushing with all his might, but his arms were shaking. He saw Achaka kneel down next to him out of the corner of his eye. A hand pressed down on his lower back, another going to his chest, and he felt Achaka straightening his curves and curving his straights. The touch over his chest was careful, barely pushing, but Graham followed his movements, adjusting his posture.

“Greckee affa nata,” Achaka said in his usual deep tone, removing his hands. Graham lowered himself and pushed up again, keeping the posture.

“Five, six, seven…” He counted off to ten before sitting on his knees, wriggling his fingers before touching his chest as he heaved a sigh. “Phew… Thanks, Achaka. That felt better.”

“Affa nata,” was the response he received, and he looked up at the man sitting on the cot.

Graham couldn’t say he was surprised the first time Achaka had removed his helmet in front of him. Achaka’s dark skin was smooth, often coated with a light sheen of sweat, only interrupted by various scars across his face and body, leaving little light strips and spots here and there. His dark hair was pulled back into several tight braids that fell over his back and by his face, a style that Graham had never seen on anyone before. His features were long, slender, and strong; Graham wasn’t afraid to admit that he was handsome, and he even said so when he first saw Achaka’s face. Thankfully or not, Achaka didn’t seem to understand, so he just gave Graham a blank stare with his dark eyes before continuing to remove his armor, as he began doing in front of Graham now. His body was well-built, his muscles prominent and toned, and despite his obvious strength, he looked elegant. Although he was a bit clumsy now and then, it was nothing compared to Graham’s unfortunate fate to be the world’s punching bag.

Achaka tugged on the collar of his black shirt, sighing and looking around at the other knights. Graham was quickly becoming accustomed to studying Achaka’s expressions whenever given the opportunity.

“Are you tired?” Graham asked. Achaka looked at him. “You know, like…” He clapped his hands together next to his tilted head and closed his eyes, pretending to snore for a few moments before cracking an eye open, waiting for an answer.

Achaka shook his head.

“Alright… Are you hungry?” He rubbed his belly, licking his lips and humming. Another shake told him he was off the mark.

“How about…” Graham tapped his chin with a finger, thinking.

“Gramee. Swala nohem,” Achaka said, interrupted Graham’s thought process. He looked up, and Achaka met his eyes with a calm gaze.

“…Right. You’re fine. Okay, good to know.” He stood up, brushing off his pants before sitting on the cot, lifting a leg onto his knee to begin removing his boots. “Sorry, I guess I’m just being paranoid.”

Dinner had been served two hours ago, and Achaka and Graham were both full from the steak and the birthday cake. The knights were beginning to settle into their cots, sharpening their heels, reviewing the latest addendums, and doing a few before-bed stretches with each other. There were several high windows that gave a view to the night sky, and Graham could see stars blinking back at him as he relaxed on his cot, hands behind his head. At some point, Whisper returned, weaving tales of dangerous creatures and precious treasures, which most of the other knights seemed to genuinely enjoy; either that, or they were just being polite.

Growing slightly restless, Graham sat up, looking around. Still no sign of Manny, he noted.

It was less than an hour before lights out, so Graham decided to engage Achaka in another language lesson. He would usually try to mimic several animal sounds, objects, and titles for interpretation, trying to get the point across so that Achaka could respond with a word in his own language. Sometimes it was more of a game than an attempt at discourse, but most of the time it offered them both insight into the other’s diction. Graham had already learned several nouns, such as how “wabataba” meant “wolf” and “kunji” meant “bathroom”, as well as a few other terms of Achaka’s vocabulary.

“Okay, Achaka, what is this?” Graham brought his fists to his chest, waving his elbows and clucking erratically.

“Ah, feebe,” Achaka replied, nodding, as he idly whittled an arrow in his lap. Where he got the material to make those, Graham still didn’t know.

“Feebe! Interesting,” Graham hummed with interest. “Okay, what about this.” He brought his wrist to his mouth, licking it exaggeratedly before meowing.

“Ooh, mimi,” was the response.

“Great! Glad to see we’re making progress again.” Graham smiled at him, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see another knight behind him.

“Graham, could you ask him what an ‘apple’ is?” the guard, named Mark, asked curiously.

“Oh. Um…that’d be a little hard to get across without an actual apple…” Graham mused, before another knight came over and asked a similar question.

“How about ‘socks’?” David pondered.

“Now that, I can get,” Graham replied, lifting one of his feet onto his knee, tugging on the toe of his sock. “Achaka, what’s this?”

“Ah, shinpa,” Achaka answered.

“And what’s an elbow called?” Graham pointed to his own elbow, inquiring.

“Groota.”

“How about the ear? What’s the ear called?” Another gesture, another answer.

“Heeyoo.”

A loud, arresting voice called out, “Hey! Whisper can do it!” Whisper hopped onto the scene, striking a pose, his dazzling smile only outmatched by his admittedly fantastic looks. He whipped his head to show off the flow of his bouncing golden waves as he looked to Achaka with bright blue eyes. “Achaka, what do you call this?” Whisper brought a hand to his mouth, humming before breaking the kiss to his palm, letting it roam from his sparkling smile.

“Ah. Chu.”

“Gesundheit. Now what is this?” He repeated the gesture, kissing his hand.

“Chu.”

“Again, you really should see an allergist for that.”

Graham cleared his throat. “Um, Whisper, I think that’s his answer. A kiss is called a ‘chu’, right Achaka?” he asked. Achaka nodded, confirming his thoughts.

“Ah. Well, there you have it. A kiss, everyone, is called a ‘chu’!” Whisper announced, striking another pose.

“Gesundheit!” Kyle called out from the other end of the room, still running in place with Larry on his bare shoulders.

Whisper sighed as Graham chuckled.

 

The following morning, King Edward called for Graham’s presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manny sure was goblin down that cake.
> 
> I'm writing this fanfiction because I was purr-turbed about Achaka's death. I guess this could be seen as platonic, but that's not exactly the root of the problem that I faced here. Truss me, there's going to be a lot more, so don't go egging me on to continue. If you wolfed down this chapter right quick, you'll love the next one. I'm not derailing the series, I'm just changing the tracks and seeing where it goes. And of course Kyle and Larry are married, that's no matri-phony.
> 
> In all seriousness, I hope you enjoy this fic. I want it to be nice, long, and painfully beautiful. A tribute to the first video game that made me cry in a long, long time; it got me through some hard times, and I want to give back somehow. Here's to the little things.


	2. Dying Legends and Buried Myths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when the past is altered? Some things stay the same, while others are completely different. Some things are inevitable, like a script written in stone; some things change with the death of a mere fly. What happens when the inevitable...never happens? May contain spoilers for chapters 1, 2, and 3.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as midnight-mistress. I also have a roleplay blog: rpisfordweebs.tumblr.com

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUICK IMPORTANT THING: I start school again in September, but I don't plan on changing my publication schedule.
> 
> ALSO, I totally plan on explaining how Achaka survived. Just wanted to make sure you knew that I knew that you wanted it ;D

The massive double-doors, intricately carved with ornate patterns of leaves, flowers, and vines all over the oaken surface, creaked open for Graham, the sound of the aching wood echoing loudly throughout the castle halls. The great hall yawned before him, the torch lights illuminating the massive passage with a bright golden light. The red carpet stretched across the smooth cobblestone floor, the walls lined and covered with countless artifacts and ancient legends. His footsteps, though soft on the long stretch of crimson, seemed to resound quite distinctly throughout the long hallway. He craned his neck, staring up at the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling that seemed to sparkle, the flicker of candlelight sending trembling shadows over the walls. He passed a pair of knights that guarded the hall, their bodies straight and rigid with perfect form. Graham wondered if he would ever find himself in this position; guarding the king seemed a very serious duty indeed. Then again, based on what he’d been told thus far, it seemed more likely that he would be holding a much more prestigious position.

He noticed a suit of armor along one wall, mounted up in a proud, steadfast form, one hand holding a spear and the other at its side, fingers outstretched. The tarnished, bronze casing of the armor seemed more matte than shiny, dented and worn from years of use. The spear stood taller than Graham himself, the tip looking blunt and stained a dark, rusty color. The belly protruded slightly farther than the visor’s tip, and the arms and legs looked thin, formed to fit a smaller, elderly figure. Graham continued, passing brightly-colored banners and drapes, each one tattered a bit more than the last to represent years of use and turmoil.

A light tap on Graham’s cap made him flinch; he turned swiftly, his eyes darting side to side to find…no one.

It was possible he’d just imagined it, but he knew better. Experience had taught him quite a lot.

Another tap, and he whirled around again. Gears turning, he tilted his face skyward. He noticed a dark, wet part of the stone ceiling, and moments later, a droplet of water fell from above. He stepped to the side, avoiding it. He hummed, then continued down the great hall, toward the turn at the end that would lead him to the throne room.

His mind reeled, recalling this morning’s message: ‘ _Report to his Royal Highness at once!_ ’ What could that mean? Was he in trouble? Did King Edward discover how underhanded his victories in the duels had been? Did he call Graham here to banish him from his knighthood, or worse, from all of Daventry?

When he’d questioned the other knights, they’d expressed similar confusion but did their best to reassure him. Each knight had rooted for Graham throughout the duels, and they all expressed their profound belief in his ability to overcome just about any obstacle. Whisper had given him a thumbs up, a “Good luck!”, and a little skip before running off to do whatever it is that Whisper does in the day. Achaka, no doubt in the dark about what the order was, had given him a simple pat on the shoulder before departing for his daily duties.

Graham sighed, slouching a bit as he reached the turn of the hall. He peeked around the corner, seeing the large double doors that would lead to his answer. He swallowed a lump in his throat before taking a deep breath, steeling himself. Whatever it was the king wanted with him, he would accept responsibility. That’s what a real knight would do. With that resolve, he rounded the corner, marching up to the doors with a slight stomp in his step, arms swinging slightly at his sides. He raised a fist and, after taking another breath, knocked once. The doors then opened, both at once.

The guards who had opened the doors stepped to the side, ready and rigid once again. The ruby red carpet continued into the throne room, stretching all the way to the throne itself. On either side of the carpet, in two rows each, were golden-edged seats with velvety cushions, but none of them were filled. The only occupants of the room, other than the sole monarch, were six dormant guards along the sides of the carpet. Everything in the room seemed to narrow in and center on one being:

King Edward.

Graham blinked frantically a few times, then inhaled deeply, chest puffed out slightly, before he began a steady trek across the scarlet expanse towards the sovereign. He kept his head level, his arms lightly oscillating at his sides, and his back straight. As he approached the throne, he got a better view of the king up close, and, to say the least, he had to struggle against the frown that otherwise would have been blatantly obvious across his features.

The last time Graham had seen the king, he’d been smiling from ear to ear, his cheeks rosy above his long, rippling white beard. The crown on his head was about as shiny as his balding scalp, and his eyes twinkled brighter than the indigo gems imbedded in the golden framing. His knobbly, weathered fingers curled around the edges of the throne’s armrests, gripping the painted yellow frame in anticipation as he watched Graham leave from his knighthood ceremony with a satisfied smile. The teen couldn’t help but wonder how such a hopeful-looking man could let his kingdom, for lack of a better word, decay the way Graham had observed it.

Despite having only been out of the king’s company for several weeks, the man that Graham saw on the throne now looked aged ten years older, like every crevice and curve in his body had become sunken, shrinking in on himself. His hair was ragged, despite the undeniably significant amount of time that had most definitely gone into caring for it, the once curvy waves having become jagged crimps and scraggly split ends. The glorious, polished crown on his brow seemed to mockingly contrast the graying and sagging face of a man whose spirit seemed lost behind glassy eyes, a deeply furrowed brow, and hands that trembled slightly as they moved idly over shining armrests. The robe over his shoulders seemed almost too big for him, more like a blanket than a luxurious sign of regality. The king’s feet were far from the floor, and his legs looked even thinner than before, if that was possible. It all looked so depressing, even the splendor and brightness of the throne hall seemed to dim as Graham approached the degenerating king.

Graham came to a halt several paces in front of the steps leading to the throne, kneeling down and bowing his head before the monarch. He heard a weak cough above him.

“Rise, Sir Graham,” came the hoarse command of a dying legend.

Graham bit his lip, taking a breath before obeying. He reluctantly met the eyes of the king once more, and he found the elder waving him forward, slowly and carefully, as if his bones might break from too much activity. The young knight followed his gesture, treading forward until he stood before the first step leading to the grand chair that held the king of Daventry. Then, King Edward began his speech.

“Young Sir Graham…You have served me w-well, since you…” he trailed off, coughing quietly, before he continued breathily. “Since you have entered my knights’ circle. I have watched you, Gr-Graham Cr-” The king was interrupted by a bout of fierce coughing that made Graham and several knights jump. One knight near the king’s side hurried forward with a goblet of water and a handkerchief, worrying over him, professionally and personally.

“Your Majesty, please, take care with your voice. You are still not well.” The knight helped him drink from the goblet as his coughing settled, wiping his face with the handkerchief before backing off again, standing at the ready at his post.

The king cleared his throat before beginning again, “Sir Graham, you have performed several services for me and my kingdom these past many fortnights, and thus, you have p-proved your ability. Now is the time for you to begin your final quests before you claim what is inevitably yours.” The king lifted a shaky hand to tap the side of his crown, giving Graham an attempt at a smile.

The teenager gulped, bowing slightly, “I will do whatever you command, Your Majesty.” His heart was pounding with excitement, anxiety, and concern for his king, but he forced himself to refrain from performing any embarrassing outbursts. “Just name it,” he concluded, straightening up as the king laughed quietly, his breaths short.

“Are you sure you can handle it? You don’t even know what it is yet,” the king joked, his voice cracking.

“No matter what it takes, my king,” Graham affirmed, saluting him. “I will do it!”

The king smiled, his lips stretching into a pained but genuine grin. The skin around his mouth and eyes seemed to wrinkle further, his eyes showing a bit more of the blue that never quite faded away in his graying irises. “That’s what I like to hear. Alright, then. Are you familiar with the Shield of Achille?”

Graham furrowed his brow. “I can’t say that I am, I’m afraid.”

“It is one of the three great treasures of Daventry,” the king explained, before his brow furrowed into a glare and his hands curled into fists. “Or at least it was, until it was stolen from me..!” He brought his fists down onto the armrests, emanating small pats from the impact. No doubt it would have been a much more powerful outburst, if only the king had a fraction of his strength left.

“My wife, my beautiful queen… I sought out the last hope I had for her health, and in my ignorance and desperation, I traded the shield for a faulty cure! That no-good dirt-mining dwarf cheated me out of the greatest protection for our kingdom, and my Maylie was taken from me!” The king sighed heavily, sinking further into his chair as the emotion took a toll on his ever-weakening body.

Graham felt his chest clench at the sight, the once-great king of Daventry having been reduced to a regretful, bitter old man. There had to be some spark of hope left in the elder; Graham had heard many of the mistakes that King Ed had made in the past, but he refused to believe that the king’s last few years were completely regrettable. There was still hope for him, as there was still hope for Daventry.

After a small pause, the king continued his dialogue. “That shield has protected Daventry for centuries. It has guarded against armies, sorcerers, even dragons. Ever since the shield’s loss became public knowledge, one way or another, many a criminal, from a lowly thief to a despicable tyrant, has attacked Daventry during this time of need. We have protected ourselves as best as we can, with the few knights that we have, but our need grows stronger. A danger looms all around us, Sir Graham. We must be prepared.”

Graham listened intently to the king. He glanced at the knight by the king’s side, making brief (maybe?) eye contact with him before the guard returned quietly to his focus. Graham did the same. “You want me to retrieve the shield?” he guessed.

The king nodded slowly, coughing with a slight wheeze. “Yes… Bring back the shield… Save Daventry… Protect the people, and…don’t let anyone know where you are going.”

Speaking of. “Do you know where the shield went, Your Highness?”

The king’s hand stroked his beard thoughtfully. “The last I saw of the dwarf, he disappeared into a hole in the ground. The shield must be somewhere down below.”

Graham pressed his lips together. It wasn’t much information to go on, but he could think of someone who might be able to help him. Speaking of _that._ “I have one humble request, Your Majesty,” Graham said, bowing his head.

“Speak, Sir Graham,” the king responded, almost sounding impatient.

“I know that this must remain a secret, but I have to ask that I consult two of my most trusted friends and knights-in-training on this. One may help me find a good place to start looking for the shield, and the other…the other is someone that I trust with my life. May I request that he accompany me on this quest, if he should choose to do so?” Graham knew that Manny had at least a passing knowledge of Daventry’s underground; he did, after all, direct Achaka to the dragon beneath the old well outside of the town. He wasn’t sure he could entirely trust Manny with knowledge of the shield, but he could probably get information even by skirting around that…small detail.

When it came to Achaka, he figured that he had a better chance of succeeding quickly with him, rather than without.

“Do what you must, but be aware that if villains should learn of your quest to find the shield, you may be in greater danger than Daventry itself. The fate of the kingdom rests on your shoulders, Sir Graham,” the king advised. “Be sure that these allies of yours understand the weight of their choices and their words.”

Graham nodded. “Of course, my King.” No doubt they would. Both were very intelligent, very particular individuals. If anyone would be responsible about this, it would be Achaka and Manny.

“Then, Sir Graham, gather what you need, and hurry. Time is ticking,” the king whispered quickly before going into another coughing fit, waving his hand to dismiss Graham as the guard returned to the fading king’s side, caring for him with water and cloth.

Graham knelt again, showing his respect before he stood, retreating out of the throne room once more as the king’s violent coughing echoed throughout the chambers even after the doors closed behind the anxious knight.

 

With wobbling knees, Graham stepped onto the cobblestone square before the castle. The streets were buzzing with activity, townspeople, merchants, and tourists alike all bustling about their business as the day shined on. The smell of fresh pastries wafted out of the bakery windows; the clash and clang of metal echoed from the anvils of the blacksmiths; and multicolored smoke and ash billowed from the potions shops. Children ran about, playing imaginary knights and dragons. No one seemed to notice Graham, something that the boy was quite content with.

Danger, he could handle. Evil, he could stomach. But the last time he’d sought out the spotlight, one of his closest friends had nearly… He shook his head, ridding himself of the thought.

It was something that got him thinking. He often heard the guards whispering, the townspeople gossiping, calling Graham the “new heir” as if he was someone entirely different from the young man they had grown to know and love. Albeit, not everyone seemed enthusiastic about his apparently inevitable ascent to the throne; some were more vocal about it than others, but they each supported Graham in their own way. It was comforting that they still treated him like a normal teenager, but he could sense the small changes in the nuances of their ways, the formality of their behaviors around him. Despite the casual conversations, the normalcy of Graham’s day-to-day life, he felt himself being watched almost everywhere he went. He knew he was being judged silently, and he was terrified of the consequences of any mistake he made. If he really was expected to be king, what if he messed up before he ever took the throne? What if he could never continue Edward’s legacy?

These thoughts haunted Graham even as he made his way around the castle, towards the outskirts of the town where the knights’ combat training range was located. The range itself was no more than a small, abandoned field with a few dummies and some weapons racks, which meant that, more often than not, the knights would train in odd places throughout the kingdom whenever they were off-duty, such as the forests, the barracks, and even the kitchens, in dire cases. The chefs sure didn’t appreciate their obvious enthusiasm for fitness on those days, but since the addition of new equipment and space in the training range, that was less of a problem now.

His eyes scanned the arena for a familiar figure, passing by several knights as they went about their daily business and exercises. Graham knew he’d be here; he was always here at this time of day.

An arrow zipped by, digging deep into a hay bale target. Graham turned his head, seeing the wielder of the bow lower the weapon, heaving a heavy sigh in disappointment. Achaka hadn’t yet donned his armor, wearing only a dark shirt and pants to the shooting range, his long dreads pulled back with a thick band. He noticed Graham at the sidelines and flashed a pearly smile. Graham felt his heart skip a beat at just how dauntingly good-looking his friend was, and he wondered how he could ever compare. He smiled and waved in return as Achaka made his way to the fence that circled the arena.

“Great shot,” he complimented as Achaka stepped up to the fence, hand on a hip. Graham leaned his arms on the edge of the wood, folding them.

“You busy? I got another adventure ahead.”

Achaka could tell by the way Graham smiled what it was that he was asking of him. There was a unique gleam in his eye that he could see whenever they were about to embark on another adventure. He nodded, replying with a grin, “Affa nata.”

“I knew you’d say that,” Graham chuckled, but there was still much that Achaka needed to know. “Come on, let’s go find Manny.”

Achaka’s nose scrunched up in a grimace. “Manna? Ooo…” he groaned, glancing away from Graham.

“Hey, come on, I know he’s not the most honest guy around, but he’s smart, and we could really use his help here. Besides, I really think he’s coming along. Last week he even said ‘good morning’ to me!” Graham tilted his head, catching Achaka’s attention with a convincing smile. “Please?”

Achaka pursed his lips, then let out a heavy breath through his nostrils. “Mmm… Affa nata.” He grumbled something else in his language even as he hopped the fence, bow in hand. His broad chest widened with a deep breath. Despite the obvious fact that Achaka was not Manny’s biggest fan, he was still willing to talk to him, for Graham’s sake. Graham felt his chest warm at the thought of his consideration.

“Perfect,” Graham smiled. “Then let’s head to the library.”

 

The west wing of the castle had a serious leakage problem. The ceilings dripped with rainwater, soaking through the carpets and the wood and stinking up the hallways with an earthy stench that reminded Graham of the deep forests outside of Daventry, just after a heavy rain. There were pots and pans throughout the corridors that caught the falling droplets, and there were always knights running about to swap them during a heavy shower.

Unfortunately, the west wing was where the castle’s library was housed. There were tables all about, stacked high with thick volumes of Daventry history and ecology, genealogy and engineering, most of them covered with thick sheets to protect the delicate pages. The lowest shelves of the bookshelves were emptied as puddles of water formed throughout the great room, and the knights had covered the floor with several dry rags in the hopes that they would soak up the rainwater. Unfortunately, this also made it difficult to navigate the room without slipping and falling. That didn’t seem to stop Manny from visiting frequently, though. Ever since his first day in the castle, he’d been spending the majority of his hours in the farthest corners of the room, reading old texts hidden from view. Although the competition between all of the potential knights had been tense, to say the least, Graham deduced that Manny was so competitive because he genuinely wanted the crown, and Graham had never met anyone so driven who was only out to help themselves. The best Graham could hope for, the only thing he would allow himself to accept, was that Manny was so ambitious because he had a greater goal in mind.

Graham crept into the library, Achaka following closely. “Maaaaaanny?” he called. A small _thump_ from one end of the room made his head turn, and he approached the source of the noise. He heard a grumbling from behind a shelf, and, stepping over and around several smelly rags, Graham peeked behind the giant wooden structure to find Manny seated atop a stool, an open book in his lap. “Graham, this is a library. In case, you haven’t noticed, it’s a place of silence and solitude. Mostly silence,” Manny explained with an edge of sarcasm.

Graham smiled sheepishly. “Right, sorry. I know you like your alone time, but I’d really like your help with something.”

“Let me guess. Whisper’s birthday present, right?”

Graham’s eyes sparkled as he held his hands to his chest. “You remembered! That’s so sweet! But it’s actually a few weeks away. What we need help with is something a bit more immediate, actually.”

“Go on, then,” Manny sighed, bookmarking and closing his book, leaning his head on his hand. “The librarian is coming back soon, so I suggest you hurry before she gives you another one of her nefarious lectures.”

The boy nodded with a gulp, rubbing his hands together. “Sooo… If you were to steal a priceless artifact from a powerful kingdom and hide somewhere underground with it, where would you go..?” Graham asked casually.

“Oh, so you’re looking for the Shield of Achille, huh? King Edward got you doing his dirty work for him?” Manny chuckled, shaking his head. “That dipstick really had it coming, I tell you…”

“Oh, no no, we’re not… Okay, maybe we’re looking for the Shield, but that’s just hypothetical. Promise you won’t tell anyone?” Graham asked, hands clasped. Achaka folded his arms behind the teen, shaking his head slightly at how obviously flustered he was getting.

“Promise not to tell anyone about your hypothetical quest for the Shield of Achille? Sure, Graham,” Manny replied, setting the book on a shelf and hopping down from the stool, landing on the floor and making his way down the passage towards yet another bookshelf. He passed the towering knights as he searched for something, talking as he did so. “The Shield of Achille was said to be taken by a dwarf into the earth, but other than that, most texts are relatively vague. I’ve heard of an underground kingdom belonging to the Leprechauns, but the dwarves are more secretive.”

Manny began to run his fingers over the binds of the books on the second shelf from the bottom, skimming over the titles until he found a thick red-bound book with faded green wording on the cover. He opened the book to a marked page and lightly dragged his finger down the face of the paper until he found what he was looking for, tapping the surface with precision. “There. Under the swamps to the northeast of Daventry. That’s the last known location of the Leprechauns. There may be a passage to their kingdom in the center of the swamp. You can start there, and they might know something about the dwarves.”

“That’s great! Sounds like a walk in the park, right, Achaka?” Graham grinned at his friend. Achaka simply stared back at Graham with a confused expression. “Oh, right. Manny, you think you could relay that information to Achaka? I still don’t know a whole lot of his language…” he admitted, a bit embarrassed. Achaka couldn’t really do much better, but the fact that they were such close friends didn’t seem to change the nature of their language barrier.

“Really, Graham, you have to start honing your communications skills if you’re going to be a proper knight. What if a representative from Achaka’s country came to Daventry some day?” Manny scolded.

“I don’t really have a way of learning his language,” Graham replied, shrugging. “Achaka and I can exchange names of things and actions, but other than that, it’s really…hazy.”

“Sounds like you need a tutor,” Manny observed, closing the book and returning it to the splintered shelf. “I might consider helping you out, Graham. It would really help in your communication with Achaka, as well as your overall language skills.”

“Really?” Graham looked beyond giddy at the prospect of finally understanding Achaka’s language. He’d only been able to learn a handful of words every day with Achaka, and even then, he wasn’t entirely sure how far that could go. He still didn’t know how to ask Achaka basic questions, or how to understand answers that weren’t "affa nata" or "stalama". “Oh, man, Manny, that’d be, I don’t even, you don’t know how much I-!”

“Huuup up up, one thing at a time, Graham,” Manny urged, calming him down with a settling gesture. “First, the Leprechauns?”

“Oh, right.”

And so, Manny began explaining everything he knew about the Leprechaun kingdom to Graham and Achaka, switching from one language to another at intervals until they both understood. The Leprechaun kingdom was said to have been based somewhere close to the swamp northeast of Daventry, but the exact location was vague as relations with the Leprechauns became tense long ago and communications all but completely halted. The Leprechauns were said to have been small, clever creatures with a large abundance of natural ore and mineral resources in their possession. Daventry once traded with the Leprechauns for such minerals, until trade agreements were disbanded due to dissimilar interests, and the history of such agreements have since been ignored for several decades. The swamp that Manny referred to was said to be relatively average, with the occasional sink pond and a few buggy pests.

“But, those are nothing to worry about,” Manny assured them. “It’s just a regular swamp. I don’t think even bandits go there.”

“But if it’s a regular swamp,” Graham mused, “then why wouldn’t bandits go there?”

“Firstly, no one else is going to a swamp when there’s a kingdom so close. Secondly, it smells horrible,” Manny explained, waving a hand in front of his visor for effect.

Achaka was silent for most of the exchange, his gaze shifting from Manny to Graham on occasion as he absorbed what information he could. He barely responded when Manny spoke to him, and his stony expression hardly changed from the moment they had entered the library. Only when Graham bid goodbye to Manny and began leaving the library did his countenance soften and his shoulders relax slightly.

“Thanks again, Manny! I owe you one!” Graham called over his shoulder.

Manny shook his head. So much for silence and solitude. “Whatever you do, don’t forget to shake their hand! It’s very rude to refuse to do so!” The small knight watched them leave, chuckling softly to himself.

“Those idiots are so gullible…” He shrugged his shoulders, rolling his head. “They’re all really making this too easy. Now all I have to do is find a few materials…” His eyes caught a familiar cover, and he grinned devilishly under his visor.

 

Graham adjusted the sacks over Triumph’s side, adjusting the taut binding so it would stay on the steed without hurting him. Although the teen’s pockets could hold just about anything he needed to carry, he kept a great deal of gerbil treats and food on Triumph’s saddle, as well as some emergency supplies in case worst came to worst and Graham lost his cape. He brushed a hand over Triumph’s fur as his steed bucked his large head in approval, shivering with anticipation for a journey.

His eyes lifted their gaze to see Achaka preparing his own steed, tall and dark and just as majestic as the day Graham first saw them. The dark knight didn’t have the luxury of keeping most of his belongings in a cape, but Achaka was a minimalist survivor; he seemed to have everything he needed to survive the journey ahead in two small saddlebags, strung over the back of his steed like lightweight rope. He had his quiver and bow over his shoulders, the sight of it making Graham pat the pocket in his cape holding his own weapons. He wouldn’t forget it this time.

Graham mounted Triumph, adjusting himself in the saddle before he sighed, staring at his hands. “I don’t know the first thing about Leprechauns…”

Achaka turned to look at him, listening. Graham continued, “I know the king and everyone else expect me to become the next monarch someday, but the longer I stay here, the more I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing. I didn’t even feel that confident winning the Duels. What if I’m…” He bit his lip, refraining from speaking his thoughts aloud, although the only person who could possibly hear him could barely understand a word of what he was saying. Perhaps if he didn’t voice it, it would be closer to being simply a myth, an imaginary concern.

He felt a hand pat his arm, and he looked to his left to see Achaka’s visor directly next to his head. The dark knight gave him a thumbs up. Graham laughed a little.

“Thanks, Achaka. I know I can always count on you to keep me going,” Graham sighed with a small, weary smile. It earned him a pat on the shoulder before Achaka returned to his steed to mount.

Achaka was then above Graham, once again. Instead of the shame that Graham had grown to expect, he then felt proud and secure knowing that the towering knight was at his side through thick and thin, as he had been in all of their adventures together. They always had each other’s backs, and there wasn’t anything they couldn’t overcome if they put their minds together and used teamwork.

Achaka’s steed turned toward the town gates, and Graham’s eyes fell on Achaka’s cape. His brand new, spectacular indigo cape, fluttering slightly in the air, free from a single blemish or stain. Graham felt his chest tighten, his hands gripping the reins of his gerbil steed.

The doubt in his mind came to a head. His mouth felt dry and his hands became sweaty as he shook his head, trying to shake out the thought with it. All of the people who had helped him get this far were counting on him to protect the kingdom. He couldn’t let them down now. He had to press on, for their sake.

“Let’s get going, then.” Graham whipped the reins slightly, spurring Triumph into action. Their steeds dashed down the road leading out of town and into the wild surrounding Daventry.

That is, they rode until they heard a voice crying out behind them: “WAAAAAAAIT!”

Their steeds came screeching to a halt, dust clouds rising up from the ground around them as they slid across the dirt. The two knights looked behind to see Whisper running up to them, waving something in his hand.

“Wait, Graham! You didn’t tell Whisper you were leaving!?” Whisper skidded to a stop next to Triumph, huffing abruptly. “That’s not what friends do! Friends tell each other when they’re leaving! Whisper always bids Graham farewell before he goes on an adventure!”

Graham winced, giving a bashful smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Aaagh, I’m sorry, Whisper, I didn’t mean to forget. We were just in a hurry.”

“I know! That is why Whisper ran, and Whisper made it!” the knight proclaimed, flexing under his armor.

Graham chuckled, until he noticed Whisper holding out a white handkerchief with an embroidered corner. “What’s that..?” he asked.

“This is Whisper’s precious handkerchief that his mother embroidered before she began to despise Whisper…” he trailed off a bit, but he bounced right back, holding the handkerchief out with more fervor. “Graham continues to blow his nose on his cape! It’s disgusting, honestly! You will take this until you return, when I will have a new handkerchief for you!”

Graham took the piece of cloth in his hand, observing the simple yellow “W” embroidered into one corner of the hanky. To think of it as something that Whisper held dear, something that reminded him of a better past, made him somber. “Aw, Whisper, I can’t take this-” he started, but was interrupted by a knight hushing him.

“Noooope nope nope! You will take it, and you will use it! I will have one embroidered with a ‘G’ when you return!” Whisper proudly announced, fists on his hips.

“I didn’t know you could embroider, Whisper,” Graham said with an awed grin.

“Whisper can do anything!” the knight shouted happily, striking yet another pose.

Graham laughed, tucking the handkerchief into his cape. “I never doubted that. Thanks, Whisper. I’ll keep it close until I get back.”

“Stay safe, and Achaka! Take care of Graham,” Whisper added, directing his attention to the tall knight on the other side of Graham.

Achaka nodded. “Scrootee, bella choonee.”

Graham couldn’t help beaming as they continued their ride into the deep forests, waving back at Whisper as the gates grew smaller behind them.

‘ _Everyone is counting on me_ ,’ he thought, facing forward and following Achaka’s billowing violet cape. ‘ _I can’t let them down…_ ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manny was a bit competitive, but he obviously cared that much because he wanted the best for Daventry, right?
> 
> Graham: *looks at cape*  
> Graham: *swoons*  
> Haha naaaaaaaah but really I hope you caught that! What else happened with Achaka's cape..... O.O
> 
> Anyway, thank GOD that Spotify has the soundtrack for King’s Quest!!!! Literally the only way I could get through writing this chapter, lol.
> 
> In the next chapter, Manny goes shopping, Graham has some bad dweams, aww, and….something dangerous this way comes. Stay tuned! :D


End file.
